Me and my buddy David were in the Haight Ashbury District of San Francisco one day back in the mid 1980s. As we were leaving, Dave hollers "STOP!!!" I pulled over and he jumps out, then hotfoots it into a gay bookstore, which I found somewhat disconcerting seeing as he was also my housemate.
He's in there for a couple minutess, then comes back out with a big grin on his face which I also found a bit strange seeing as he just came out of a gay bookstore.
"Check this shit out," he says s he pulls a couple Gay Pride bumper stickers out of his jacket.
"Whatcha gonna do with those?"
"I'm going to put one on the back of Fernando's truck," he says. Fernando was our boss, one we both hated as much as he hated us.
"Good idea," I say.
Now Fernando lived in Oakdale which bills itself as The Cowboy Capital of the World, so you can imagine the reaction he was getting for the next couple weeks as he drove around town before he finally got around to walking to the back of his truck.
He was pissed off as hell, knowing we were behind it, but he couldn't prove a damned thing and we never copped to it.